


Assassin's Luck

by SageMasterofSass



Series: You call it Luck, but I call it Fate [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, As in Killua and Gon never meet, But then they do, Ging's A+ parenting skills, M/M, eh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageMasterofSass/pseuds/SageMasterofSass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Gon and Killua never met? Obviously, Gon would become a Hunter. But what of his silver haired friend? Well, Killua would grow up to be the head of his family and Ging would hire him to assassinate his one and only son. Only logical, yes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, hello! Um, here is my modest little HxH fic. I'm quite proud of it so I hope you guys like it too. uwu Updates will be slow, but luckily I have the first seven or so chapters done already so I'll go ahead and put those up!

Gather the nen into the feet, crouch, jump and you will find yourself suspended in mid-air. Ging Freeces had never had any trouble with this particular skill. In fact, he'd never had much trouble with any of the nen skills. There were some that were more troublesome than others, and each one became just the most minuscule amount more difficult as he aged further and further past his prime, but the difference was not noticeable in any way. When you were one of the best, you were one of the best.

This particular skill, being able to practically levitate, came in handy when trying to infiltrate the certain home of a certain famous family of assassins, that was for sure. The Gate of Trials was too easily seen, and much too public for a covert operation such as this one. So instead of going in the more formal route he simply walked his way over their 'impenetrable' wall.

Once on the other side, dropping back to the ground, he found himself in a dense forest, as he knew he would. There was the scent of a very large animal here. Of course having done his research he knew it was Mike, the Zoldyck guard dog. He also knew the creature was perfectly trained and wouldn't think twice before tearing him to pieces, no matter how good with animals he normally was. Being over twenty feet tall and more vicious than even a mother foxbear, Mike would draw far too much attention if Ging were forced to fight him. And what was more it was a fight he wasn't necessarily sure he would come out unscathed from.

The man gave a wicked little grin, adrenaline already pumping through his system. Outwardly though, as always, he was completely calm and in control. This was the part of being a Hunter he loved the most it seemed- the danger. However, using zestu there was only a small chance of Mike finding him by scent so far away from the gate and that took some of the fun out of it.

At the same time he knew the that same risk was too high and fighting the outstanding canine was the worst thing that could happen to his plan. Staying under the creature's radar was really his only choice right now. To help with that he'd worn several rather pungent herbs on a string around his neck to block out his natural odor. It lowered the risk considerably, and for the first day as he traveled through the thickly wooded grounds he was able to simply walk amongst the trees without any other forms of protection. But he knew things would sky rocket the closer he got to the house and so he kept on grinning.

Just as he thought, as he closed the distance between himself and the enormous mansion (a natural sense of direction had led him first two the butlers' quarters on the first day and then the main facility the second) the risk of being caught had gone through the roof. The professional Hunter was forced to travel by treetop, sprinting nimbly along branches that were practically interwoven, creating a nice cover though it only worked from afar.

Much to Ging's pleasure (and much more to his ego) he arrived at the mansion completely unspotted on the dusk of his second day. He was sure that someone, probably one of the butlers, knew that not everything was quite as it should be. The longer he staid, it seemed, the more security increased. More than anything it was just a gut feeling. Thankfully though, the Zoldyck staff appeared unable to pinpoint exactly what the problem was, probably working off of gut feelings of their own and nothing more. Which pleased Ging greatly. So feeling bold and maybe just a little too clever for his own good, he decided to walk right in through the front door. He did it at such speeds that only the most trained of eyes would be able to see him, and when there wasn't a soul was within a two hundred yard vicinity, but still, it added to his insult of sneaking into the Zoldyck home in the first place. Not that his goal was to insult, but being proud as ever the Hunter couldn't really help that kind of thought pattern.

Unfortunately, Ging's luck took a small leave (or perhaps it was merely karma repaying him) as he spent the next thirty minutes wandering through the halls of the ginormous house frantically trying to find the right room. There were no blue prints and he had absolutely no idea what the layout of the building looked like. He was basically working blind, something that he'd done before but never in such a dangerous situation. Despite this handicap he did eventually find what he was looking for; the master study.

A large fire crackled against one wall, the rest of its surface taken up by floor to ceiling bookcases. None of them appeared to have been touched in other walls were covered in mosaic like windows, but thick purple curtains were draped across them and so they provided no natural light. In fact, the only light in the entire room seemed to be coming from that one fire, illuminating a single oak desk in the corner.

Ging entered with all of his senses on high- just like they'd been for the past two days while on this mission. He knew he'd found the right room when he spotted a shock of silvery hair poking above an elegant chair that sat before the fire. The person there did not move, but taking one step closer Ging suddenly knew his presence had been known for some time now.

The other being did not react immediately, or for that matter, at all. It continued to sit as it was, presumably staring into the red and orange flames or maybe reading a book. It was only after Ging had stood there, relaxed and unmoving himself, that he finally got a response.

"What are you doing in my home?" The voice was cold, lifeless.

"I have a job that I'd like to hire for," was Ging's response. There was no hesitation, he knew exactly what he was here for.

"And you had to throw my staff into disarray because...? They knew you were here, you know, just not where. Threw them into quite the little tizzy. Too much fuss if you ask me." He was playing, this other person. He knew most of Ging's angle already and now he simply wanted to dangle him on a string until he could pick the Hunter apart piece by piece. That's what the aging man loved about these people. Their innate ability to not care one way or another and yet they possession of a love for dissecting their enemy. At least this Zoldyck.

Ging laughed quietly before moving forward to take the chair opposite the other. A pair of deep cerulean eyes watched his every moment without actually looking at him.

"I needed to gain your attention first," was his simple response, smile small but genuine. Oh how being in this person's presence made his heart pound. Even if the other was a mere teen, he was probably one of the few people who surpassed Ging in both strength and skill, and both parties knew it. His body itched desperately for a fight but he quelled the urge mentally.

"Well you've certainly gotten it." Nothing more, though there was a touch of amusement in that otherwise empty voice.

"Good." Ging leaned forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees and looking this pale figure, body turned flame orange by the fire, up and down for a few seconds. He didn't look like much, but he knew appearances could always be deceiving in this world of mind games and tricks. "My proposition is a simple one. I came to you because you're the best at what you do."

"You want someone assassinated." Not a question, a statement, and still those blank eyes never once flicked in the Hunter's direction.

"Bingo!" A large grin on Ging's part. "I'm going to have to ask you for something in particular though. I don't want you to send out any of your family members. If I hire you for this job, I hire you and no one else."

That seemed to grab the teen's attention and for the very first time his gaze came to rest on Ging's face. He couldn't help but shiver a little under it. If eyes were the window to the soul than this man had none.

"Who is it exactly you wish for me to kill? I'm not a man who likes to waste his time."

Ging's smile just widened further. "Ah, trust me, this isn't just any old Joe I'm sending you after. It's my son, Gon Freeces. I'm sure you've heard the name. He's a rather famous Hunter."

The other party was silent for a moment, not in astonishment or because he was thinking but simply because he wanted that silence in the air for whatever reason. This Zoldyck never did anything without a finally crafted reason. Finally he murmured a small, "Indeed, I have. And the payment?"

"100 Billion Jennies. It's being transacted to a bank account of yours as we speak."

This seemed to please the other as he nodded quietly. "It will be done." The words were final, dismissing, and Ging understood the hint. Standing up, he left the room, unafraid of turning his back on the one and only Killua Zoldyck, head and master of the Zoldyck family.


	2. Lucky Lion

Five foot nine and weighing one hundred and seventy pounds. These two facts were the only things Killua could glean from the internet on Gon Freeces' appearance. (He wasn't aware, but Ging had gone through and personally erased the majority of the information on his son simply to give the assassin more of a challenge.) It was plenty for him to work off of though, already giving the eighteen year old boy a fair mental image of the person he was hunting.

Capabilities and powers, as well as location of course, were the other things the assassin attempted to look up.m. Unfortunately, even before Ging swooped in to erase much of his son's impact, there wasn't anything to find on Gon's abilities. Location was a different story, on the other hand. In fact, Killua was able to pinpoint this down to an exact hotel room. Suite 205 at the Lucky Lion Hotel in York New City. On top of that he also found out that the Hunter was in that area because he'd recently been hired by one Mr. Dirndl, a famous gem collector world wide. (Ging wasn't as tech savy as he liked to believe)

The silver haired teen smirked as he stood from the computer. Milluki certainly wasn't the only one who could hack into websites, even if he was older. Killua, after all, was head of the family for a very obvious reason. He was better than all of his siblings. Not only physically speaking, but mentally as well. His brain just worked so much faster, and with the development of turning his aura into electricity, so did his body. It was only natural that he succeed their father. It had been decided since the day he was born, though he'd never known just quite why until he'd fully tapped into all of his potential and seen how great he really was, and therefore how much the family needed him to lead them.

Leaving straight from Padokea via airship, Killua was able to reach York New in only a matter of days. During that time he continued to monitor Gon, though the Hunter seemed to be staying put for now thankfully. The assassin hated targets that were always jumping from one place to another. They weren't a problem to take care of, obviously, but they usually weren't worth the hassle. Scratch that, they were never worth the hassle.

Needles to say, the trip was dull and uneventful. Trained to never loose his patience though, Killua found it bearable. Upon landing at the airport in York New, he went straight to the Lucky Lion Hotel. Despite knowing his target's build, he hadn't found a single picture, and until he caught at least a glimpse of Gon he was never going to be able to pick him out in a crowd without revealing himself. (The easiest way of course being to use Gyou or en to see who had the aura of a Hunter, but if that person had even the bare minimum of training they'd be able to sense the other party. While they may not see the other they would certainly be on the alert now.)

Suite 205 was on the tenth floor (there were twenty floors in total, the Lucky Lion being one of the most esteemed hotels in the entire city) and was considerably larger than most of the regular rooms. It certainly wasn't as big as the suites at the very top of the hotel, but it was spacious and very comfortable nonetheless.

Killua had no issues getting into the room through the front door. For the briefest of seconds he'd released his en and found that no one was behind the suite's one and only door. From there it was easy to shoot a small amount of electricity into the key reader under the handle and trick it into unlocking the door.

With an unreadable expression the young assassin entered the suite, already slipping into a complete and total state of zestu. He closed the door behind himself before moving quickly and quietly through the large rooms. In total there were four; a bedroom, a bathroom, a small kitchen and what looked like a sort of sitting room with two couches and a television.

It was obvious someone had been living here for a while (two weeks exactly according to Killua's information). There were clothes tucked neatly into the dresser in the bedroom, but also a fair amount spread about on the floor as if discarded without a worry about cleanliness. The bed hadn't been made, there were dirty dishes in the kitchen, and the fridge was readily stocked.

All of this Killua took in without a word. The little details gave him an insight into the person he was hunting, but none of them were the characteristics he was looking for. In truth, all he could tell was that Gon didn't spend a good amount of time here, didn't mind a little mess but wasn't overly chaotic. He also wasn't very interested in technology as the tv was unused and a cell phone (probably bought out of recommendation rather than need) sat on the kitchen counter, left behind.

These things were stored away in the assassin's mind, just in case they might be useful at some later point. He'd been taught from birth to never count anything as useless least he get careless and allow a target to get the best of him. Even now, the head of the family with skills that could put the best on their knees in a matter of seconds, he never strayed from his teachings. An adequate description would be a puppet. Though Killua may be allowed to lead the Zoldyck family, his father and Illumi controlled him with invisible, taught and unbreakable strings to this day. Being aware of said strings was something completely different, however. They'd trained him to a T, so of course they would pound in an undying loyalty as well as obedience.

When he was done looking the hotel room over, Killua positioned himself in one of the corners of the ceiling where many shadows gathered. Blending himself into them carefully, he used every technique ever taught to virtually erase his presence all together. Surveillance would be a snap from here.

The assassin was not disappointed when he heard a set of footsteps outside the door approximately three hours later. There had been two before, but one had been wearing heels and the other was too light to be Gon. Before the steps even stopped in front of the door, Killua knew that this was his target.  
There was a quiet beep, a silver doorknob twisted, and in stepped the Hunter. The first thing Killua noticed was the black, spiked hair. It stood out in wild tufts on the teen's head, tips a dark green color.

Next was the strong build. Surprisingly his target was rather short and stocky. Not overly muscled or even buff for that matter, but nobody could mistake the strength that was held in those lean arms or wide shoulders. Killua guessed he was only a couple of inches shorter than himself, but probably outweighed him by a good fifty pounds.

Gon moved around the suite, humming quietly to himself as he went about his business. He'd slipped a backpack off at the door and it rested there against the wall now, a long fishing pole sticking out of one of the pockets. It looked worn but sturdy and well taken care of. The Hunter seemed to be repairing its hook, disappearing first into the kitchen with the bright red lure and returning again with a new, four pronged hook. Sitting on the couch he broke the fishing wire with his teeth and disentangled the lure from the rather rusty metal before stringing it together with the new hook. All the while he kept his head down and gaze fixed on what he was doing. It was a little frustrating as Killua was trying to get a glimpse of his features but he didn't dare attempt to get Gon to look up.

His target had just put the lure and hook back onto his rod when there was a quiet knock at the door. The assassin started a little. He'd been so busy trying to memorize, categorize and figure out Gon that he hadn't even heard the approaching footsteps.

The Hunter opened the door to reveal a man of twenty or so, heavily scared with eyes that looked quiet but faintly haunted.

"Gon," the new arrival murmured, giving the hunter a quick pat on the shoulder before moving past him and taking a seat on the sofa. He had blonde hair that hung neatly around his pale face.

"Kurapika, I'm so glad you could make it," Gon replied. Though he seemed happy to see this...friend? he sounded slightly unsure of himself as he closed the door and sat down adjacent to him.

Wait...Kurapika. Killua knew that name. It had been in the papers a while back, and all over the news. The man who had single handedly destroyed the Phantom Troupe once and for all. It had come with a heavy price though, obvious in the blonde man's limp and the scars stretching over his handsome features. Not to mention the permanent loss of his nen. The broken warrior would never be fighting again.

"It's good to see you." The blonde smiled gently, still looking distracted. "I can't help wondering why you would contact me after all of these years though. You've been a great friend to me, but our paths will never cross naturally again. Don't you think it would be best to let things slip away?"

Gon blinked a few times, doe brown eyes wide with what looked like confusion. Damn, he was easy to read. Killua could probably guess what was coming next, and as it was, he guessed mostly correct.

"I don't care if you're not a Hunter anymore, Kurapika, you're my friend. The only reason we fell out of contact is because of my mission with those chimera ants. It took years, but now I'm back and I wanted to catch up with you-" There was a pause and Gon seemed to falter. Kurapika cocked his head to the side, dull eyes curious.

"But..." he prodded.

"But not here. Why don't we go to that little cafe across town? There's someone watching us. I'm not sure where he is, but I've felt his presence since I walked in a few minutes ago." Brown eyes that had previously been soft and warm were suddenly chipped like stone and harder than steel as Gon glanced around the room. Not nervously or even with fear, but more with a steady determination. Killua couldn't stop himself from gritting his teeth as an unwanted shiver traveled down his spine. Who the fuck was this guy anyways? No one had ever been able to sense him while on a hunt. Ever.

Kurapika looked slightly taken aback but didn't question his friend, just stood from the couch with a nod. With one final glance around the room, the dark haired boy followed suit, moving to the door and ushering his friend through.

"I don't know who you are, or what you want, but I don't really mind you spying on me or whatever. Just know you're not going to find any openings to attack me." The door closed with a soft click that resounded in Killua's ears.


	3. Destination: Ami City

"I'm sorry but the closest we can get you to the Jungle is Ami City, and that's a good fifty miles to have to walk, kid. You sure that's okay?"

Gon smiled wide, fifty miles wouldn't take him but a couple of hours. "Perfect."

The Captain seemed a little taken aback but then laughed loudly in that full belly way that all sailor's seemed to have and clapped the teen on the back. "Alright kid, I'll give you a ride. The fare is twenty jennies. You can pay now or when we board tomorrow."

"I've got the cash now," the Hunter responded, still smiling radiantly. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out several crumpled bills and handed them over. He had more money stashed elsewhere but he liked to keep a little on his person in case anything interesting or yummy caught his eye.

Captain Mariam counted them quickly before giving a nod and putting them in his own pocket. "All settled then. Be here tomorrow at noon, boy. That's when we'll be heading out."

Gon made a little 'mm' noise to ensure that he'd heard before making his way back down the dock, turning to wave once. Busy sailors bustled around him, loading cargo into the large brigantine floating peacefully behind Miriam. Before he got in anyone's way, the Hunter hurried on down the dock and moved into the small stream of people walking along the ship's yard.

He'd been searching for a few weeks now for a voyage that would get him anywhere near the infamous Jungle. Though the name was simplistic, there was really no reason to give it a proper one. The huge forest dominated the lower half of Airin, a good sized continent to the east of Padokea. Everyone knew about 'the Jungle', about its mythical creatures and the dangers it held. Ami City, a small port, was probably the closest civilization for miles, and Gon counted himself lucky that he'd found a ship willing to take him there. (Or rather, one that was already headed there that he could hitch a ride on.)

Mr. Dirndl was ecstatic that he'd been able to hire a Hunter. There were ancient rumors that a very precious gem lie hidden in the depths of the Jungle, known as the Heart of the Jungle. It had never been seen or recorded so many people believed the story to be just that, a story. But not Mr. Dirndl. With his enormous precious stone collection and eccentric ways, he was determined to get his hands on that gem. And that's where Gon came in. His only job was to make his was into the Jungle and find it, and if he did the pay he received would be incredible. Enough to feed an entire town for ten years or more. That's not really why he volunteered to do it though. Money wasn't a big deal to the dark haired teen. After all, he could survive on nothing but his own skills for the rest of his life and be perfectly content doing it. No, it wasn't the money he was looking for. It was simply the adventure.

It was amazing, but despite all of the wild tales and fantasies that fluttered about, little birds on opaque wings, not a single person had ever even seen the Jungle. Not within the common population anyways. There were Hunters who'd been; some who had died, and others who had lived. From these people Gon had attempted to gather information, but tracking down Hunters was a pesky task, especially when a lot of them were unwilling to even really talk to him. The true adventure seekers (not the brash, haughty ones, those always died) often lived in odd places, usually alone, and didn't take being trodden upon lightly. The teen's good nature and well tuned manners had put him at a disadvantage here and so the things he'd managed to glean had been little. It didn't bother him though, not one bit.

There was a shift in the pattern of the crowd and Gon sensed it immediately, on low alert now, though you wouldn't guess by his relaxed composure. Someone was following him. He instantly recognized it as the same person who'd been in his hotel room the day before, a quiet, curious aura that tickled the edge of his awareness like a smell or memory that you couldn't quite place. A small crease appeared in his brow. Who was it and what did they want from him? Honestly, with as low of a profile he kept (or so he thought) there couldn't be a lot of people who wanted him dead. Unless the follower was after something else...?

Elongating his stride, the dark teen picked up an easy jog, tensing his shoulders a bit so that he wouldn't bump into anyone as he moved. Once again, there was a shift in the crowd, more noticeable this time and he couldn't help but smirk. Interesting that this masked figure was tailing him.

The ship's yard had a simple design; there was a large stone walkway that ran parallel to the water, many feet wide. Opposite the water there were pubs, warehouses and small, pleasant restaurants. Allyes varying in width slid between these buildings, dark little places when they were narrow, and sunny walkways where they were wide. Judging the distance of his follower, Gon picked out one of these allyes two buildings down and set his sights for it. The shop in front was one he knew, a seafood place he liked to visit on occasion with an apartment above it, and because of this he happened to know that the ally next to it had a tall, stone wall that kept it from opening up onto another road on the other side. The warehouse behind it, or next, however you wish to view the picture, was also two stories tall. Perfect.

Just a few steps from the entrance, Gon put on a sudden burst of speed and rounded the corner in a flash. In the same instant he also closed off his aura and presence as entirely as he knew how and leapt onto the ledge of a second story window. The height of the restaurant kept him mostly invisible from the street.

The crowd was too far now and not visible enough for the dark haired teen to know if there was a change, but he had a feeling his follower would not be pleased to loose sight. Throw in a sudden cut off of aura and it might just make this person reckless...

Not even five seconds had passed and there was a distinct movement in the alley below, a pale blur hardly visible within shadow. Even with Gon's training he couldn't follow the source of said movement entirely, but luckily for him it paused, head swiveling as if trying to catch a scent on the breeze.

The Hunter didn't think twice before stepping off his ledge and landing in a crouch behind the other person, a quick "Who are you?" on his lips. In that small flash of a second he caught blue eyes, a color of blue that was neither the ocean or the sky and yet was more endless than both. But than the man (or woman, the scent that lingered was both masculine and feminine) was gone, and despite the dark haired teen's best efforts, he was not found again.

Meanwhile, just outside the city limits, Killua attempted to catch his breath beneath a large oak tree, heavy with moss and green with Summer. His heart pounded wildly within his chest, a tempo so fast it was akin to the beating of a humming bird's wings. This was not out of exhaustion however, or physical stress. In fact, physically the assassin was perfectly fine. The short flight had hardly cost him any energy whatsoever. And yet his head still spun.

Of course he'd realized that Gon was laying out a trap for him, how could he not? And yet he'd overestimated himself, creeping through dark shadows along the edge of the alley as if he might discern just where the Hunter was hiding. Perhaps he thought the teen had just decided to flee in an attempt to loose him. Either way, walking in there had been a mistake.

His target had dropped suddenly behind him and yet Killua had not moved fast enough. If he had wanted to, he could have been gone before the Hunter even reached the ground. Instead his feet had stayed stuck in place for a split second, looking back to catch Gon's gaze with his own before he finally found his speed. Just that short instance had electrified him though.

Seeing those dark eyes from a distance was one thing. Having them focused on you was another; so visible that he'd seen the darkness of pupil contract, seen little gold flecks around it, seen how the brown darkened as it edged outward, ever heavy and rich, like chocolate. And of course the intense focus in them, curiosity and determination and excitement and...and what?

Killua straightened suddenly, shaking the thoughts from his head rather violently. What was he doing, getting all worked up over a pair of eyes? Jesus, Illumi would have said he'd gone crazy. And who's to say he hadn't?

A pale hand placed itself over his heart, feeling its strong beat there and feeling it reverberate throughout his entire body. Adrenaline. That's what this addicting feeling was. How long had it been since his blood had been peaked? How long since his veins had boiled and his body trembled, fight and flight warring in his core?

It was nice, he decided. He wanted more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to leave a nice little note down here that in my original idea for this story, Kurapika was going to play a much bigger role. But now I'm thinking not...so that might be a loose end here guys gomen. Just know that he's living happily with Leorio and has a lovely little job in a library. So yeah...there you go. uwu


	4. Disguise

Killua frowned into the mirror, running his hand through newly shortened hair and not liking the way it felt between his fingers. Unfortunately, Gon had caught a glimpse of him today, which meant he had to change his appearance. Such a shame too, his hair had been getting long again, almost ready to be tied up behind his head. He liked it that long. Now it hung choppily above his ears, not only cut but dyed a dull black as well. The color made his skin appear ghastly and sick, not helped by a pair of brown contacts that turned his eyes yellowish green. Change his clothes as well to those of a merchant and the Hunter shouldn't recognize him. He'd just have to be careful about his aura while aboard the ship.

Honestly the assassin didn't like having to chase his prey, but in this case he wasn't being given much of a choice. Gon left via boat tomorrow. Between now and then, the chances of finding a opening to off the Hunter were entirely too slim. Normally he'd just slit his throat while on the ship, but no that wouldn't work either because there were so few passengers. Suspicion could too easily fall onto his shoulders.

Another glance in the mirror and a small snarl (Killua hated disguises) and then he was gone, back into the cheap motel room he'd rented to plan until tomorrow. (Aka, sulk, he really liked long hair)

\-------

Gon had to squint his eyes against the reflection of the sun's bright light off the water. The harbor sparkled, a gentle breeze urging small ripples across the surface, making it appear as restless as the boats that sat upon it. They bobbed by the docks, sails fluttering as passengers and crew bustled about. On one boat in particular, energy seemed to be concentrated.

The brigantine's name was Mertyle, a strong ship with three masts and good sailors aboard her. Gon made his way up the gangplank and onto the main deck, Captain Miriam giving a smile and a nod as he passed. Others who were bound for Ami City stood about, some looking nervous and others just bored.

The sun was high in the sky and when his shadow fell completely underneath him, Miriam gave the sign to set sail. A sailor down on the dock was just pulling the gangplank away when a sickly looking man came running up, out of breath as he desperately dashed on board, crew cursing him as he passed. Had he not been waving the fare of twenty Jennies over his head, Miriam would not have let him on. As it was, he hardly made it.

Gon watched with half an eye as the man said a few words to the Captain before leaning against the rail of the ship to catch his breath. He really didn't look well. Meanwhile, the rest of the crew continued with their preparations until the freshly unfurled sails caught a good breeze and the Myrtyle slowly pulled away from her port.

Personally, the Hunter loved sea travel. The wind carried a strong scent of salt and an odd freshness that only came from the ocean, and he took a deep breath of it. Their trip would take a few weeks and he was looking forward to it, always one to enjoy the gentle rock of a ship and the hustle and bustle of the sailors. A lot of times, if they were good natured enough, he was allowed to crawl around in the masts, finding the flat wooden places where one could sit back and relax, and the odd ropes one must climb to get there.

Gon's attention was drawn again when Miriam clapped his hands, calling for the passengers to gather around him. The ship had three levels below deck, the very bottom being for cargo, the second having the crew's quarters as well as the mess hall, and the the top most having eleven cabins, the largest and foremost being the Captain's, the other ten much smaller and for guests.

"Each one has a number on its door, but I'm not about to assign em out to ya, so it's up to you to stake a claim to one. I will say though, that there will be no fighting or stealing on my ship. So keep your fingers to yourself and don't go creeping around other people's rooms. Other than that, breakfast is at seven sharp, dinner at ten. Try to stay out of the crew's way and don't go down to the cargo area, there's nothing for ya down there. If you get sea sick, do it over the railing. Other than that, just don't be a hassle. We've got a few weeks to spend together and I don't want there being any animosity between y'all."

With that the Captain gave a nod and went to stand up at the helm of his ship, giving orders as the Myrtyle navigated her way out of the harbor and into the open sea.

Gon ended up in cabin number six, finding a small bed and a trunk available to him there. Since he hadn't brought anything with him besides his backpack and fishing rod, it stayed empty as these he just left leaning against the wall.

Other than himself, there were seven passengers; a woman and her small daughter, an older man of about seventy, the sickly man who was late, a young girl in her early teen's and her twin brother and a rather small woman with rich, exotic looking clothes. None of them were exactly talkative at first, and for a few days they only really saw each other at meals. Gon quickly made friends with the sailors and spent his time in the ship's intricate rigging though. Where everyone else was, he had no idea.

After about the first week everyone began warming up to one another a bit. The twins were Ally and Sally and they were looking for adventure. The old man, named Denien, was a citizen of Ami City and had only left to visit some relatives. Adriana and her daughter Daisy were looking for a fresh start, and Selver, the sickly man, was simply looking for a place to start his new business. As for the exotic woman, she stayed to herself and rarely spoke even as the voyage wore on.

It had been their second day out when the Hunter had realized his follower from York New was on the ship. He'd been hanging from a net, shielding his face with one hand as he looked out to sea to catch the crisp breeze on his tongue when a small shift in the air had alerted him. It was the vague taste of a familiar aura, the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck. He didn't move like he'd noticed, only bringing his gaze around slowly to glance at the deck of the ship. Only Miriam and several sailors were visible. Gon pursed his lips, the aura gone like nothing but a mere memory.

He wasn't terribly worried that he was still being followed, but this other person's devotion interested him. Why go through all the trouble of getting a disguise and boarding this ship to the middle of nowhere with him? Honestly, was there a bounty on his head that he wasn't aware of or something? Or maybe he just had a really big secret admirer.

Thinking back, the dark haired teen pulled up the very brief memory he had of his stalker. Cerulean blue eyes, a pale wisp within a shadow, a lingering scent of something sweet yet musky. Not really enough to go on, but it was all he had. It was then that he started making mental profiles for each of the seven passengers.

Leaning against the railing of the ship, Gon looked over the few who happened to be on deck with him in the early morning light, stretching their limbs and letting the brisk wind pull their hair into knots. Eight days in and he still wasn't sure. Honestly none of them had really peaked him as being his follower, but that didn't mean he was just going to close his eyes.

For the most part, he'd ruled out Adriana, Ally and Sally. But that still left three people under his mild suspicion. Considering this person hadn't yet proved themselves dangerous, finding them wasn't his top priority. He was more concerned with enjoying himself. Besides, why whisk the passengers into a flurry with personal questions and other such snooping? If whoever was following him intended to show themselves they'd do it eventually. If not, then oh well.

The sudden call of a seabird caught the Hunter's attention, an odd sound for being in the middle of the ocean. They'd left most birds behind miles ago. In the distance there was a whole flock of them, flying in on soft wings, feathers streaked with the dull colors that allowed them to prey on fish below. They called to one another, coming together to create odd formations before falling apart once more.

Had their talk not been so distressed he simply would have thought there was an island nearby and think nothing of it. However, their voices carried notes of danger and warning and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight.

Brown eyes tracked their movement through the sky then traced their flight back towards the horizon, watching clouds scuttle in on a wind that seemed to be picking up speed every second. The water, as well, seemed to be more restless than usual, the top churning itself into a froth and lapping eagerly at the Myrtyle's sides.

"There's a storm coming!" came the cry from the sailor in the crow's nest, telescope pointed out to sea.

"Get inside," Gon ordered, turning back to face the other passengers. They looked slightly alarmed before deciding they didn't really want to be caught in the rain and moved below deck obediently. Miriam emerged just as they disappeared, face turned towards the sky and looking grim.

The Hunter glanced back out at the horizon, spotting a line of dark clouds forming in the distance. He knew why the Captain suddenly looked so heavy. Heaven help them, a hurricane was rolling in.


	5. Island Vacation

Consciousness came to Killua in tiny, broken fragments. They fit themselves together in an intricate design not yet discernible, the colorful but meaningless shards of a stained glass window. First and foremost was a vague and rather hazy awareness. There was self and there were sensations; heavy, uncomfortable clothes, salt on his skin, salt on his tongue, sun shining brightly behind his eyelids.

Ocean his mind supplied when he picked up the sound of water rising and receding, a steady rhythm that echoed the pound of his heart in his skull.

Ocean. I'm on the ocean. Another sound met his ears, that of rustling fabric, a soft breeze. The ship's sails, he decided.

The Myrtyle. I must be on the deck. What happened? Why am I on the deck?

Drifting memories of the night before passed through his mind's eye, many half forgotten or too dark to see. Others painted an incomplete picture of a storm. That was right, wasn't it? Yes, a storm hit the ship. Sailors running, cursing, lightning hitting the main mast, falling on that woman. Adriana? Yes, Adriana, her daughter crying out and Gon tossing her over one shoulder, shushing her. Waves, water, Miriam shouting out orders that were lost to the sound of the sea. Rocking, thrashing, the ship groaning like a mighty beast. And then? And then...he didn't know.

Killua blinked open his eyes slowly, forced to squint until the sun was perhaps not so harsh on them. His irises remained the dull greenish brown color his contacts made them and slowly they adjusted until he could gaze successfully up at a broad, blue sky. There were no clouds in sight, only small wheeling birds with high pitched voices.

For a moment he contemplated this scene and its lack of masts, searching perhaps for the familiar sway of the boat beneath him. When it was not felt, he turned his head to the side, searching now for the railing. Instead he was met with sand. And water. A beach, stretching out for yard after yard before it curled back on itself and was lost to his view. A fucking beach.

The assassin let out a small groan, pushing himself up onto his elbows and then into a siting position. He noted duly the ache in his body but was more interested in scanning the ocean in front of him for any signs of the ship. Did he just fall overboard? Did it run aground or something? He was still preoccupied in his thoughts when a voice called out behind him, "Hey, you're awake!"

Killua turned quickly, regretting it because of the way his vision swam (must have hit his head at some point) to see Gon standing at the edge of a thick tree line, waving one handedly. (Not rustling fabric then, just the wind in the leaves.) So apparently he wasn't the only one stranded.

The dark haired teen trotted over, lowering himself to sit down next to the assassin. He was carrying his left arm oddly, bent at the elbow and tucked against his stomach. It was swollen and heavily bruised just a few inches behind the wrist, suggesting a break. His clothes, too, looked worse for wear. Long jeans had been rolled up to his knees, and a black tank top was full of holes and dirty where it looked like he'd been wiping his hands on it.

"Are you okay, Selver? I didn't see what happened to you, but you look a mess," the Hunter quipped, brown eyes roving over hair caught between white and black and pale skin.

Killua reached up to run his fingers over a large bump on the side of his head, feeling blood there from an open gash and wincing a little. "Yeah, I'm fine. What happened, where is everyone?" Might as well play nice until he could kill the poor sucker and get out of here.

Looking away, Gon pursed his lips a little before he answered. "A hurricane hit us last night. It was terrible. The whole ship sank. As far as I know, everyone else is dead. I just finished burying Daisy. I tried to save her so hers is the only body I found."

Wide eyes and the nervous lick of his lips made Killua appear slightly distraught, at which Gon simply laughed. "You can stop pretending now, I know you're the one who's been following me."

Hold up...Well fuck. Now what? Honestly the assassin had never been in a situation like this before. His identity had been revealed, at least somewhat. What was he supposed to do now? Fess up or continue lying? A mixture of both maybe? Killua glanced over and was suddenly ensnared by curious eyes, wide and deep and pure yet tainted, the first time he'd ever truly looked Gon head on. It took all of his will power to pull his own gaze away, and even then, words bubbled up to his lips without his permission.

"I'm an assassin. Killua Zoldyck. You're my target and I've been following you for a while now. I intend to kill you before I get off this island." Or at least he was assuming it was an island. Wait...why was he saying this again? Fuck, the head injury must be worse than he thought.

Then the Hunter did the most extraordinary thing. He laughed. He was alone with a murderer, ship-wrecked, dirty from burying the corpse of a young girl, and he laughed. Killua's eyes widened, unbelieving.

"I see!" the dark haired teen crowed. "So that's it then, huh? You're just going to kill me? Well, Killua, let me propose something to you first. How about you let me heal up that head wound of yours and then you can kill me later. Honestly I'm surprised you haven't passed out by now. That thing's pretty nasty."

The assassin opened his mouth once, closed it, opened it once more. Before he could find words to express his dismay and confusion though, blackness swarmed his vision and unconsciousness hit him harder than a steel train.

\----------

Gon gave a sigh and stood from where he'd been sitting, brushing sand off his jeans as he did so. Selver, or rather Killua, lay passed out on the beach at his feet and he cocked his head, watching the supposed assassin.

Daisy, heavy in his arms, calling to her mother, Denien reaching for his hand as he was carried off by a particularly large wave. Shouts and screams around him, the sound of wood splintering, Miriam's curses heard above all else. Futile attempts, thrashing water, fingers slipping away from his as he desperately tried to save anyone besides himself.

The tree line on the edge of the beach was incredibly thick, but after a few feet the foliage began to thin and the trees to disperse. Living in places like this all his life, the Hunter quickly found what he was looking for; a small spring of fresh water. Once located, he returned to the beach and picked up his follower, carrying the limp form out of the sun.

He placed Killua on the river bank before gathering up a handful of moss that he found growing on some of the rocks nearby. In a large wad, the plants held water wonderfully and he was able to use it as a makeshift cloth, dabbing it at the assassin's wound until all the sand and grime was flushed away.

When the other teen (he looked like a teen, but Gon couldn't be sure) was cleaned up as best as he could manage, the Hunter set about using all of the survival skills he'd ever taught himself. First was finding the materials to make a fire. It wasn't needed right now, but he didn't know how cold it would get when the sun set. Plus it would come in handy when he caught them something to eat later.

Next, he followed the spring further into the trees until he found a rather large lake, water a bit murky but clean and bottom littered with smooth stones. It would be perfect for bathing and washing their clothes. He did that, laying his rather ragged outfit on some warm rocks to dry in the sun. In the meantime he found some palm fronds to clean the saltwater from his skin and the grave dirt from his hands.

Normally when you're stranded on a jungle island with another person, and that person is passed out and bleeding, you don't want to leave them laying around amongst some trees. Gon took the risk simply because he knew it was high noon and that most predators would be sleeping in cool, dark places rather than looking for a meal. He returned, dry and clothed, before they could start their prowling.

Killua was still unconscious, but he hadn't expected any differently. He probably had a concussion, and it would take his body time to heal itself. The Hunter was thankful the only thing he'd gotten was a broken arm, which he set using two flexible sticks and the stems of a few cat tails. Of course...if it meant everyone else aboard the ship would have lived then he would gladly take on more injuries, death even. He was supposed to be a professional after all, he should have been able to save at least one of them. Killua had survived on nothing but pure fate. Gon didn't know how he'd managed to stay alive himself.

Brown eyes scanned trees and vines and water slowly before finally landing on a pale face. Smooth skin, sharp features and a lithe body. Oddly enough, though he was half drowned, the assassin actually looked kind of...beautiful. Afternoon sun dappled across his form, creating odd patterns of light and shadow that moved and swayed with the leaves above. A sudden urge to see those amazingly blue eyes again hit Gon rather strongly and he wondered why the teen would ever wear such an awful disguise. He hadn't seen but a glimpse of him without it but just that brief second was a million times more attractive than sickly green irises and hair the color of oil.

Frowning, the Hunter reached out to trail his fingers through Killua's hair. Maybe he could wash the dye from it, reveal the white locks beneath. But then the assassin shifted and Gon withdrew his hand, reminding himself that this situation was serious and not some kind of slumber party. He didn't know why he kept forgetting, many deaths hung heavily in the net of his mind. Killua just seemed to be distracting.


	6. We Should be Friends

For the next three days, Killua floated in and out of wakefulness. The sharp pounding of pain at his temple pushed him back into unconsciousness whenever he surfaced. Unlike waking up on the beach, he wasn't quite as aware of his surroundings or of the person who continually floated around the edge of his vision. His disillusioned mind thought it must be God, because none of his family would ever bother to take care of him. Funny considering he was an atheist.

A fever wracked through his body and kept him at bay from recovering as quickly as he usually did. It burned hot behind his eyes, hotter than the liquid that crawled down his throat everyday, hotter than the midday sun on his skin. It gave him chills that made him twitch when it broke, and made him sweat when it rose. His normally pale complexion shifted between sickly looking greens and heavy reds. Guess his little trip in the ocean had done more damage than he figured.

By the fourth day, the assassin awoke late in the afternoon and for once was able to recall his own name. He stared at the shifting leaves above him for a long time, identifying the types of trees to try and stretch out a mind that felt like it had shrunk in on itself.

When his head no longer felt like someone was taking a hammer to it, Killua sat up very, very slowly. The world tipped around him for a brief second but then things righted themselves and he was able to blink the cloudiness from his vision. A small pool of clear, bright water lay a few feet from him, the surface ever rippling quietly as it picked out a small trail along the forest floor. A clearing encircled the pool, in which he sat. It wasn't terribly large as branches still stretched wide overhead.

On the other side of him, the Zoldyck spotted a ring of stones, the area within charred and covered with ash. There was a twig sticking out of the ground next to it, a cooked fish speared on the end. The ash looked cold which meant the fire had been put out at least several hours ago.

Gon must be taking care of him then. The fuzzy face he saw in his fever dreams had to be him, not God. Killua couldn't help but laugh a little at his own mind, the idea completely and utterly ridiculous. Well...he would have laughed, but couldn't muster the strength to do so. Instead, he laid back down with a sigh and allowed himself to drift off into sleep once more.

When the assassin awoke next, he was greeted with a dark sky. The bottoms of the leaves glowed warmly, as if producing their own light, orange and red and gold. Truthfully there was a fire in the circle of stones a few feet away, letting off small tendrils of smoke and tiny, excitable sparks. They danced upwards before disappearing, like little twinkling fireflies, the kind that roamed the forests around the Zoldyck mansion. More fish were placed around the fire now, looking freshly caught and producing a rather heavenly smell.

Killua sat up once more, finding that the dizziness he'd encountered earlier had faded considerably. He was unsurprised to find Gon resting by the fire, chin on one knee, the other leg stretched out before him as he watched the scarlet flames. His brown gaze was distant, tinted with fire light. The assassin's movement seemed to catch his attention though, as he blinked slowly before turning to look at Killua. A small smile pulled at his lips, something almost fond beneath it. "Would you like some fish? You haven't eaten anything in quite a while."

Killua was instantly on guard. Maybe it was that smile, maybe it was being offered food, or maybe it was simply the fact that he'd been taken care of while unconscious but something made him suspicious of the Hunter. Concern and courtesy and care were all foreign words to him that resulted in nothing but a rather fast heightening of his senses.

Gon laughed suddenly, making the assassin tense his muscles. "Relax, it's not like the food is poisoned or anything. I've been eating it myself."

The pale teen licked his lips slowly, finding that his stomach was feeling rather empty. All the same though, he made no move to go join Gon by the fire. Instead he narrowed his eyes a little.

"How long have I been unconscious?" he asked, voice rather unemotional in every sense of the word.

Another small smile from the Hunter. "Today is day number four. That first day, I picked you up off the beach and brought you here. Since then I've been cleaning up that wound of yours and feeding you some water to make sure you didn't dehydrate."

Killua reached up to touch the injury on his head without thinking about it, finding it beginning to scab over and considerably less painful than it had been. His suspicion reached new levels.

"Why?" he snapped suddenly, irritation peaking through that unemotional veil now. "I told you I was going to kill you, didn't I, that I'm an assassin? So why not just leave me on the beach, or better yet kill me while you had the chance?" It's what he would have done, without a second thought. Why anyone else would do anything different was entirely beyond him.

Gon's expression grew almost serious and he looked like he was debating on whether he wanted to reach out to the pale teen or not. He seemed to decide against it (thankfully, the assassin didn't like being touched but didn't think he'd have the strength to do much about it) and just sighed, shaking his head sadly.

"Because that's what people do," was his rather soft answer. "When someone else is hurt you take care of them, no matter who they are. My Aunt taught me that. Besides, I like you, Killua. I really wanted to know who was following me and now you're right here. I can ask you questions and stuff now." The Hunter gave a large, cheesy smile. "So let's be friends, okay?"

The assassin adopted something similar to a look of horror, suddenly finding himself on unsure and unfamiliar ground. Friends? He wants to be freaking friends?! What in hell was he supposed to do with that? He'd never been taught anything to deal with friends. Nothing except for the fact that he didn't need any. But what to do when that started mixing in with his work? Emotional attachments weren't often considered when killing someone, but what were you supposed to do when your target was attached to you?

And just like that master assassin Killua was stuck with a question he didn't know the answer to, the first time in a long time. (The last time being in some of the more difficult math courses his tutor pushed him through)

Rather than show his confusion, the pale teen wiped the horrified look from his face and adopted one of boredom, letting out a dismissive snort. "Whatever," he drawled. "I'm still going to kill you once I get my strength back. In the meantime, give me one of those fish."

Despite the rather rude behavior Gon just beamed, pulling one of the twigs out of the ground and tossing it over to someone he now considered his new found friend.

Killua caught it easily, pausing to sniff the fish a little suspiciously before eating it in a few bites. Not the best taste in the world, he much preferred chocolate, but it put something in his empty stomach. And as for poison, he wasn't terribly concerned. From a young age all of his food was laced with it unless he went out and bought it himself. But being locked up all the time that wasn't really an option. So he'd grown tolerant to pretty much everything.

Another flying fish caught the assassin a little off guard but he snatched it in midair and then glared over at Gon.

The Hunter was not to be deterred. "Why don't you come sit over here," he chirped, looking way too...happy for Killua's liking. What was wrong with this person? "The fire's warm and I've got a few fruit here too if you want any."

With a snort, the assassin threw back the two twigs his dinner had been on, easily caught by his companion, and laid back down with an angry huff. Facing Gon of course. He wasn't in the best of shapes right now and he didn't trust this stupidly bright child of a Hunter, no matter what he said about wanting to help him.


	7. Cliff Diving

Even as Killua's breathing evened and slowed, Gon stayed where he was. The assassin was upset and confused, he could read it in every word and movement. But that was okay. It did make Gon a little sad, though. What had the other teen had to go through in order to be that untrusting?

Every breath had been cautious, words chosen carefully. There was a kind of comfort there under the surface, though it was ironic; comfortable in uncomfortable situations. Killua had been on guard and relaxed all in the same moment which spoke volumes. Guess being an assassin did things to you. Sure, it might be advantageous to never have a state of being where you could be taken advantage of, but it also meant that you never truly got to kick back and enjoy yourself.

The Hunter shook his head to dispel the thoughts. No use moping about it. Really the best thing to do would be to prove his own trustworthiness. Not difficult for him, friends were easy to come by and nobody could ever stay mad at him for more than a very short period of time. He just had that kind of effect on people. Hopefully Killua wouldn't be any different. Gon hadn't been lying when he said he wanted to learn more...who had hired him, where was he from, why not attack him before he left for a completely different continent? Just to name a few of his questions.

Again, the dark haired teen shook the thoughts from his head. They could be answered later. For now he followed the assassin's suit and made himself comfortable on the surprisingly soft ground. (Well it wasn't really that soft, but he was used to it so its hardness didn't bother him anymore.)

He laid facing Killua, obviously. Mainly because the way firelight played across those pale features intrigued him. It was like watching a story unfold across every curve and dip and the center of it all seemed to arrange itself around a small, dark scar at the corner of the assassin's mouth.

Gon hadn't even noticed it until just now, it was so tiny, but now it seemed enormous, completely understated and yet overly complicated. The more he looked, the more he found; on the flesh of a revealed shoulder, along the curve of Killua's neck, at the edge of his eyebrow, just under his ear, on the backs of his hands, the sensitive skin of his wrists and following the curve of his jaw. They were everywhere, random and tiny but seeming to make the pale teen up entirely, as if he were made of them. It only spurred Gon's curiosity ever forward until he wanted nothing more than to trace them with the tips of his fingers, wash that dye from pale hair, and remove sickly green contacts to see the blue oceans underneath. He wanted to understand and memorize and follow the tiny threads of conversation until he'd revealed the entirety of the assassin. Everything about Killua just screamed mystery and he'd never felt such a strong urge to uncover something unknown before. Maybe the pull to find his father...yes, the desires were about equal in strength if he put them side by side.

Gon heaved a sigh and turned his back, forcing his mind blank so that he might get some sleep. The fight to find his missing parental figure was a long one, so revealing Killua would probably be just as difficult. Not that he was giving up, he was just resigning himself for the night.

\-------------

Killua felt...violated. He furrowed his brow and unconsciously folded his arms over his chest. The feeling had been with him all morning ever since he'd woken up and it just wouldn't leave him alone, like someone had smoothed his hair back and slid their hands under his shirt while he slept. Not that they did. If Gon, or anyone for that matter, had tried, they would have found themselves quite dead in the blink of an eye, whether he was up to full strength or not.

The assassin shivered a little uncontrollably, mouth turned down into a disapproving frown. Everything about this mission was turning out to be insanely unpleasant.

Sinking down into the water of the small pond, Killua let out a puff of breath that escaped him via several angry bubbles. His nose and lips were submerged, eyes and the top of his head the only things revealed. Beneath the water he sat cross legged though the rocky bottom was many meters below him. He didn't move, arms still crossed but managed to float as he was anyways. A few minutes later, when he couldn't hold his breath any longer, he tipped his head back, filled his lungs and retained the position again.

The disguise he'd been wearing lay at the edge of the pond, recently scrubbed and drying. (Well honestly it didn't look like it had been cleaned but it wasn't like he had soap or anything)

Killua was supposed to be cleaning himself ('Use these palm fronds, they're a little rough but it gets the dirt out of your skin!' Gon had said) but he was too busy pouting right now. The water was warm where the sun touched it, but he chose to stay in the shadow of a large cliff making up another edge of the body of water where it was colder. The cliff stretched far overhead, taller than the trees on the other edges of the lake. It seemed the island was made of two halves; a low end and a high end. As you went across it, the land just continued to slope upwards, but the progression wasn't always that smooth, as in the example of the cliff where it rose suddenly.

Glancing up at it, the assassin wondered idly if he pushed Gon from the edge if he'd hit some of the jagged edges on the way down. It wouldn't be the cleanest way to kill him, but it was a possibility.

Too risky, Killua eventually decided. What if he doesn't hit any of the rocks and just falls into the water? That wouldn't even make him blink. Besides, that kind of method was far beneath him. He knew countless techniques, he'd be wasting them by using a freaking cliff.

Another sigh and the assassin sunk lower into the water, this time until he was completely submerged. He didn't bother closing his eyes, instead letting them adjust to new, dimmer lighting and searching out the open areas around him. Small schools of fish darted about, the kind he'd eaten last night, and a few larger species moved slowly across the bottom.

In the corner of his vision, Killua spotted a dark spot in the face of the cliff. A hole was carved out of the rock, an underwater cave, and the pale teen felt his curiosity peaked. The fish didn't seem to mind, and as he watched a few filtered in and out of the opening. Maybe there were air pockets or even dry areas to climb onto? The assassin had unfolded his body and was about to kick out towards the cave when a call from above the surface of the water caught his attention.

An aggregated huff but Killua propelled himself upwards anyways, a rush of air passing between his lips when he broke surface. Narrowed eyes searched for the source of the noise (most likely Gon, though he had left about an hour before saying something about exploring). When he found nothing amongst the trees he trailed his gaze across the top of the cliff until a small figure came into focus, waving its arms widely. Even from the distance, he could see the stupid grin on the Hunter's face.

"I'm coming down!" came the distant shout but Killua didn't bother responding to it. Instead he crossed his arms and watched the other teen with only half a mind. Maybe he'd hurt himself on the way down. One could hope, couldn't he?

Rather than immediately jump as the assassin was expecting, Gon pulled his tank top off followed by his jeans and then his underwear. Before Killua could complain, the Hunter was standing there stark naked, toes hanging over the edge of the drop. Still grinning he let out a loud whoop and jumped, curling himself into a ball as he fell.

It took Killua a moment as he was still in a state of shock, but he realized almost too late that the free falling Hunter was heading directly for him. Kicking out hard in the water, he moved just before Gon could hit him but was swallowed up in the resulting wave. When he came up again he was spluttering, hair hanging limply in his face.

"What in hell do you think you're doing!?" The words were out of his mouth the moment Gon surfaced. He was faced with a strong urge to cover himself, that same violated feeling creeping up on him once more.

The Hunter laughed, pushing his own damp hair from his face with a wide grin. "What do you mean? I'm having fun!"

Though there wasn't anymore water in his mouth, Killua spluttered again. "Naked!?"

Another laugh and Gon wrinkled his nose a little. "I didn't want my clothes to get wet. Besides, you're naked too, what's the problem?"

What was the problem? The assassin wasn't sure, he just knew there was one, and it was evident by the red tint to his face. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for an answer before finally settling on a disgusted snort.

"You're so weird. Wasn't your arm broken or something? Why would you jump from that high? Not to mention the fact that I'm trying to enjoy a little privacy here!"

"It was," Gon replied, completely unfazed. He lifted his left arm from the water and twisted it to show off some fading bruises. Damn the kid healed fast. "But it's much better now. Marigold is really good for wounds. It's what I was putting on your head too. If you wanted privacy though, you could have just said so. I thought we could have some fun. It's been boring being out here by myself." This time his smile was so large he had to close his eyes. "So c'mon! Your turn to jump next! I can show you the way up the hill if you like."

"Fuck off."

"...what?"

"I said fuck off. Leave me alone. I don't care if you were lonely or whatever. I'm only here to kill you, don't you remember? So go have 'fun' somewhere else."

Gon paused for a second, titling his head to the side. For a moment it seemed like he might just do as the assassin said and leave. But then he smiled gently. "I don't care either. I think we can be great friends, Killua! If you wanted to be alone that's fine though. I need to go check the traps I set anyways. See you later! I'll start making lunch soon so come back to the camp when you get hungry. By the way, you should take those contacts out. Your eyes are so much prettier without them."

With that the Hunter swam over to the cliff face, made a few handholds and quickly scaled the entire thing, presumably to get his clothes back. Killua didn't watch him, unease making his mind heavy. More and more this Gon character was throwing him into confusion. How were you even supposed to respond to someone like him?

Kill him, part of his mind answered immediately. It sounded unnervingly similar to his father, but then again most of his thoughts did.

He's interesting, keep him around for a little longer, said another part. This one wasn't a voice he recognized nor one he had ever heard before. It kind of reminded him of his own, physical voice though.


	8. Cave Adventures

Killua wasn't taking out his contacts just because of what Gon had said. Of course not, that would be ridiculous, an assassin like him following the orders of a petty Hunter. He just wanted them gone. They were hurting his eyes, yeah that's it, they were uncomfortable and pointless now.

The Zoldyck frowned down at his reflection in the pool. The blue of his irises, now revealed, shone brightly on the silvery surface of the water. He blinked a few times before the frown turned into a scowl. Pretty his ass. He was a fucking terror. Professional killers weren't 'pretty'.

Nonetheless, he did have to admit that he didn't really look like he'd been shipwrecked on a desolate island...creamy, pale skin remained flawless, not so much as even touched by the sun. (A trick of nen considering how much he fucking hated being sunburned) His hair was growing out again, looking choppy and a little style-less but attractive in a tousled way. Only a few of the more stubborn areas clung to the black dye, giving him an odd splotchy effect. Gon had told him he looked like a cow.

"No offense of course!" He could hear the Hunter's voice in his head now. "I actually really like cows. They're cool, and your hair reminds me of their spots."

Killua made a scoffing noise and pulled away from the pool, crossing his arms moodily over his chest. Their make shift camp was beginning to look used; foot prints in the dirt, remnants of fire and little odd things laying around that Gon had made from their surroundings. A basket woven out of reeds hung suspended in their little spring of fresh water, containing several fish still living but virtually waiting to be gutted and served.

The annoying teen himself was nowhere to be seen. They'd been here for a little over a week now, the first four days spent healing and the last four battling his conscious. Each afternoon, though, Gon would disappear for several hours on end. Not that Killua minded, it gave him some time to himself, but after several days of this continued behavior the assassin couldn't help but get curious. On this tiny island, what in the world could he possibly be doing? Killua could follow him and find out of course, but he didn't want it to look like he was interested in the Hunter at all. Because he wasn't. Not one bit. The only reason he hadn't killed the dark haired teen yet was because he provided a source of amusement. When the assassin got tired of him, he'd slit Gon's throat and that would be that. He'd come to this conclusion several days before and for the time being it put his mind at rest, though he knew it wouldn't last forever. His families' voices would surely come back to haunt him eventually, pushing him, goading him until he complied with their wishes.

With a sigh Killua effortlessly pushed himself to his feet, hands jammed in his pockets as he decided to quell some of his boredom. There was already a path forming through the undergrowth of ferns that lead to the small lake where he'd bathed a few days before. He hadn't gone back since then, not wanting a repeat of what had happened, but Gon went daily. It was how he caught the major supply of their food, though they also survived off a number of fruits and a few small mammals. fish were still the larger part of their diet.

The trek to the lake was a short one but Killua took it slowly, head thrown back to watch shifting leaves far above his head. The trees here were tall with thick bases and many, leafy boughs. On the outer edges of the forest there was a large population of palms, offering coconuts and easily manipulated fronds. The more inland you went, however, the more oaks and elms you found; not necessarily tropical species but thriving anyways. Vines grew around their branches, draping themselves across and over and under to find some of the best spots of sunlight and below on the forest floor, smaller plants fought for space. It was mainly ferns that dominated the area, but there were grasses too, tall and flowery, and thick shrubs with thorns and woody stems. Had he been into nature, he might have found the place beautiful. But he wasn't so its natural charm went right over his head.

The lake in and of itself was just as beautiful. Dirt faded into pebbles along the shore, trees keeping their distance as if respectful. There were willows here, that draped out and over the water, tiny fish swimming amongst the tendrils of leaves that hung down. There was the quiet buzz of cicadas in the air, droning and sleep inducing and dragonflies flitted about the area, wings transparent but color tinged.

Again, all of this was lost on Killua. Without a word he picked up a good sized stick, zapping the end with a shot of electricity so that it would catch fire. From there he set the torch in the dirt, keeping it upright while he striped away all of his clothes except his boxers. (No way he'd go in completely naked now) The water was pleasantly warm when he slipped into it, flame held over his head with one hand while he swam. He paused, glancing at the torch and focusing for a brief second until he had managed to make a small nen bubble around it. When he dipped it into the water, much to his pleasure, the fire continued to flicker. Ah, the amazing things you could do with nen.

Knowing his plan would now work, the assassin dove underwater, holding his now water resistant torch before him. Its light turned the water around him a golden color, masking everything it didn't touch in darkness. The cave in the face of the cliff was easy enough to find again, and Killua paused outside it. Height wise, it wasn't much taller than him, but in width it had to be at least five meters across. When he held the torch close, it revealed craggy stone walls that dipped and curved and moved backwards into the rock. Where as algae grew on some of the surface outside, once within the darkness of the cave, there was nothing but the occasional fish and most of those had been chased off by the assassin's approach.

It took several minutes to reach the back of the cave and he moved slowly, watching as the rock smoothed itself out little by little until finally he caught sight of something slightly different up above him. The movement of water. Now when you're submerged, because it is surrounding you, you don't normally see water move. But when you place water and air next to each other, you begin to see the ripples and dips and waves, even from below. Which meant there was an air pocket here.

Tentatively Killua reached his hand into the space, recognizing instantly the cool touch of dryness on his fingers. When he could reach past his wrist and still not find any obstacles, he pulled his arm back and instead pushed his head through, cautiously tasting the air on his lips before inhaling. It was stale but not unpleasant, and he when he brought forward the torch he could watch the ceiling slope away from his vision far up above him. To the left was more stony wall, rising up out of the water like some ancient beast. To the right, several meters away, the stone did the same thing, only more gradual, creating an even sort of floor above the water's level.

The assassin wasted no time crawling up onto the shore, waving the flame before him to see how far it stretched. The cave was a small one, tall but not very wide. The air was dank and dark but fresh in a way that didn't make sense. He didn't question it, instead pushing his nose (figuratively) into all the dark corners and crevices he could find. Much to his disappointment, there wasn't much more to see.

Killua flopped to the ground with a sigh, cross legged. Well. He was here. Now what? He'd never been one for adventure, really. No, that was a lie. When he was young and naive he'd wanted to travel the world a million times over. Now he'd seen most of it and was thoroughly unimpressed. So...he found a cave. Whoop-de-doo.

The noise came softly at first, a little buzzing thing that was barely perceptible, softer than the beating of a fly's wing. He ignored it at first. But the noise grew, from tinny and in the back of his mind to the chorus of an entire beehive and Killua's senses went on edge, reaching and checking for any hidden danger. With the noise came a dull ache at the base of the assassin's skull. He winced slightly, fingers pushing up into his hair to find the spot and recoiling with a gasp when he brushed against it.

What the actual fuck?

By now the buzzing was a dull roar and the pain was spreading, down along his spine and behind his eyes, making his vision flash white as he attempted to hold down the food he'd eaten only hours before. Consciousness was slipping away from his grasp and quickly, even as Killua scrabbled to maintain it, to push himself to his feet and shake away the noise, the ache, the way his muscles were seizing. It was all to little avail, like attempting to climb a rope slick with oil, grabbing grabbing grabbing at it, only to have it slip through your fingers as you fell.

Brilliant blue eyes closed and the sound of the assassin's head hitting rock as he slumped over echoed eerily through the cavern.


	9. Tracker Chips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not actually dead or anything....I promise I'll try and get the next chapter out in a more timely fashion though.

It was late in the evening when Gon finally realized Killua was missing. Not that he hadn't noticed the other's absence or anything, just that he'd been busy working on his surprise and when he came back to their camp he'd assumed the assassin was off doing his own thing. Doubt was beginning to take root, though.

There was a fire going and the little clearing the two boys had claimed glowed warmly with its light. Gon sat before it, legs folded and eyes shut tight as he concentrated. Killua's aura was doing something very strange. It was....all around him and try as hard as he might, he could not pinpoint an exact location on the white haired teen. Everything was just blurred, like his presence had been smudged across the entire island. The teen had never seen (or felt, rather) anything like it. 

Both the Hunter's interest and concern were peaked. For one, Killua could possibly be doing this himself. In which case Gon was definitely going to try and learn it from him! That would be such a cool trick. On the other hand though, there could be some kind of external force going on here. Wether it was with or against the assassin's wishes worried him quite a bit. Maybe they weren't as alone as he had thought they were? Or maybe some kind of wild animal had ripped Killua to pieces, dragging him all over the island and those pieces were now leaking nen! 

Before Gon could completely freak himself out there came the quiet shuffle of feet on leaves and his eyes snapped open. The missing teen in question appeared across the fire, body sagging and eyes dull (though the contacts were missing, thank goodness!). To say the least, Gon's relief was short lived as Killua promptly collapsed to the ground. 

The Hunter was on his feet in milliseconds and next to the unconscious assassin in even less time. Tan fingers skirted over a pale body, wet fabric bunching up under his touch. The wound on Killua's head seemed to have reopened, but other than that he was physically fine. 

That night Gon spent sleeping fitfully, the assassin's head resting in his lap after he'd cleaned all the blood off his face. The white haired teen hadn't so much as twitched the entire time, his breathing heavy and unsettling in the quiet of the night. It was the sound of someone in turmoil. 

Questions buzzed around Gon's mind, even as he tried to ignore that labored, almost painful noise. What had happened? Were they in any danger? Was someone after them? He hadn't even thought about it before setting out his en, unwilling to let some unknown enemy sneak up on them. If it was even an enemy that did this....the injury actually kind of looked like Killua had simply hit his head on something. But...that couldn't be right. Gon had seen him move. He was graceful and careful and controlled, many things the Hunter himself was not. Accidentally slipping wasn't even a considerable option.

On top of that his nen was still doing that....whatever it was doing, that mist like illusion. Suspicious if you asked him. 

Killua awoke some time after midnight, grumbling slightly and clearly disoriented. Gon had been drifting in and out of an uncomfortable unconsciousness but he snapped to attention as soon as blue eyes fluttered open, thin fingers reaching up to rub at them. The simple action did little for the assassin as he continued to lay limp and compliant in Gon's lap. 

"Hey, are you alright?" The fact that Killua hadn't immediately jumped away worried him. 

The body twitched and gave a low groan. Gon thought for sure his new friend would simply pass out again but then those blue eyes, which had closed, snapped back open, suddenly intense in their gaze. 

"Out," he rasped, tongue thick and heavy sounding in his mouth. 

The Hunter bit his lip, unsure of just how to respond to that until Killua said it again, this time grasping at the back of his own head. He pulled at the hair there, long white strands coming out in his palm. "Get it out!" His body had steadily grown more and more rigid until all the tension was released in those three words, a gasp that left the assassin once more unconscious and slack.

Gon was surprised into action. This was a secretive, fierce person after all! For him to suddenly, out of the blue, become so vulnerable and damn near docile....

With infinite care, the Hunter cupped Killua's jaw and turned it to the side, setting the assasin's cheek against his knee so that he had access to the back of his skull. Where the teen had been grabbing at his hair the skin looked red and inflamed, swollen. It was far too angry for Killua to have done it himself and Gon's heart gave a painful squeeze. He really hoped this wasn't what he thought it was....

The Hunter's nen was a strong thing, but through all his training he'd only ever focused on using it as a power source; a blunt force. Focusing it down into a lethally sharp point then, about the size and shape of a scalpel, was a bit of a challenge for him. Gon did it anyways, tongue between his teeth and brow furrowed. He rested one hand on Killua's chest, keeping him in place as he probed experimentally at the swollen area. It was just at the junction where neck met head, but either the assassin was too far gone to feel the pain, or his nen blade wasn't as sharp as he thought it was as the white haired teen gave no sign of feeling the pressure. Gon would have put money on the first as he watched, partly in horror, several beads of blood roll down the curve of Killua's throat. Swallowing hard, he steeled his resolve and pressed deeper. 

The skin split easily, the cut only a quarter of an inch deep. When his nen encountered something that no longer felt like tissue, he drew the blade down until it met the prominent node of the assassin's spine. There was blood and the raw pink of a fresh wound but underneath there was something small and dark and nen covered. Gon extracted it carefully, the thing no larger than the tip of his pinky. The foreign nen was slimy against his skin as he held it in his palm and it made his fingers curl instinctively, trying to rid himself of the uncomfortable sensation. 

Another sense of dread and sadness settled itself onto the Hunter's shoulders. It was a tracker chip. 

He dealt with it quickly, crushing it in his hand and then allowing the remaining pieces to scatter into the fire. The residue of the unknown nen settled around them like a dark cloud, heavy and unbearably slow to dissipate. 

At the very least, Killua looked slightly more relaxed now. His face was certainly more peaceful. Gon cleaned his newest injury quickly and efficiently, though his movements were hollow. More then anything he wanted to know who had placed that device in the assassin. The power it had, and for such a small thing! Just activating it had fucked Killua up enough to make him damn near harmless. Who could possibly have that much power over someone the Hunter had previously considered fiercely independent and solitary? Worse yet, did the chip's activation now mean that someone was going to be looking for the assassin? Had it somehow caused any permanent damage? It hadn't been placed very close to the brain...but Killua certainly hadn't been himself. He'd been guarded even when concussed and half drowned. Now? Now he came to the Hunter for help. 

Gon gave a low groan, scrubbing at his face. He watched as the assassin's breathing evened out, assuring himself that for the moment he and Killua were both safe, and then he curled around the white haired teen and fell asleep. Not much else he could do.


	10. I Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to a user on ff, EmpressTurtle. Her review inspired me so much that I finished this writing it in under an hour!

Having one's nen ripped from the body and put out on display for all the world to see is not a comfortable process. Killua could attest to that. Even unconscious he had felt the life force slipping away from him like the steady drip drip dripping of a faucet not all the way turned off. It had been unbearable. A constant sharp pain down in his core emanating and pulsing and pulling. 

But then peace had stolen over him, fast and furious in its coming and he knew, he just knew that it was Gon who had done that for him. It was the only thought in his mind when he woke the next morning and it was the only thought in his mind when he found the Hunter curled protectively around him. 

"A tracker chip?" he echoed, voice sounding lost to his own ears. He was tired, still, despite Gon's best efforts. They sat facing each other in their little clearing, a cool chill in the air and dew on the trees. 

The other teen nodded solemnly, looking more serious than Killua had ever truly seen him. "It was lodged in the back of your neck. I destroyed it as soon as I found it, but..." and here he looked down, seemingly nervous. "Do you know who put it there?" 

Several responses fired off in Killua's mind simultaneously. The first was a strong impulse to push away from Gon, to snarl and tell him it was none of his goddamn business. Because it wasn't any of his business and because of course he knew who had done it. How could he not? He wasn't an idiot and though he hadn't known about the chip before now there was no doubt in his mind about where it had come from. 

The second instinct was to lie, but sitting there in the early morning light, brown eyes fixed carefully on him, caring, unsure, worried. He couldn't do it. Here was his target, the man he was supposed to kill, and it was obvious he wasn't worried about his own safety but Killua's. And Killua just could not bring himself to lie to that open face. God, what was happening to him? 

He drew in a deep breath, chest tight, and then let it out in two words. "My family."

A nod and the Hunter's expression softened to the point where Killua could no longer look at him for the knot curling in his stomach. It didn't stop Gon's voice from reaching him, and distantly he rather wished it would. "I'm not going to pretend to know why they would do that to you, but I'm sorry anyways. Was it activated because you haven't killed me yet?" 

The cold embers of last night's fire sat between them, the assassin having extracted himself from Gon's hold the moment he woke. It didn't stop him from feeling the other teen's warmth across the space. "Something like that," he sighed. "Assignments never take me this long, and I never have any issues with them. They probably think I'm trying to run off like I did when I was younger." 

Maybe the Hunter wasn't as dense as he appeared, as he heard the discomfort in Killua's voice and smoothly slid the conversation away from the too personal. "Well I destroyed it, they shouldn't be able to find you, right?" 

The assassin's mouth twisted in a half grin, half grimace. "I wish. Milluki, one of my brothers, is practically married to technology. As soon as the chip sent out a signal he would have logged the data and would have continued to do so until it went out. They know where I am." 

Gon sucked in a breath through his teeth, not upset or frightened but resigned. "Alright, what does that mean then?" 

Without thinking about it, Killua had lifted his head and began watching the Hunter with dull eyes. He wondered if Gon was worried yet, like he should have been when the assassin first revealed himself or if he still possessed that unshakable optimism. With slumped shoulders and a contemplative expression, he thought maybe Gon might now be experiencing some of that fear he should have felt over a week ago. He himself should have gotten some satisfaction from that fear but instead he just felt oddly hollow. 

"It means," he started, voice rasping, "that they're going to kill you. Or him rather. I don't think they'd send the entire family after me, and mother certainly wouldn't make the trip." 

"Who-" came the immediate response but Killua held up a hand, stopping the question before it could be asked. His neck felt sensitive and raw and a headache was beginning to creep up his spine. They could deal with this later. 

Again, Gon proved his intuitiveness and snapped his mouth closed. The pale haired teen had dropped his head again, rubbing absently at his collarbone, but he could feel that brown gaze fixed on him. He couldn't face it. Not when he knew for certain that Gon was going to die now, and he would, there was no avoiding it. No hemming or hawing like he had done. One of his brothers, maybe even his father, they'd kill the Hunter on the spot. Or maybe they'd catch Gon, tie him down and force Killua to finish the assignment himself. It struck sick horror through him, an emotion not felt for many years and he had to push the vile back down his throat. That was the thought that pushed him over the edge. 

There really wasn't any denying it, was there? The Hunter was under his skin, traipsing through his mind with that long, easy gait of his. He cared. He cared and now Gon was going to die. Had there even been any point fighting it to begin with though? Probably not. He was doomed the moment he'd set foot in that hotel room, the moment Gon had turned into seemingly empty space and told him head on that he, an assassin, was never going to get the upper hand. The irony was that Killua had tried to prove him wrong and failed. 

"Hey." The single word pulled the pale teen from his thoughts suddenly, blue eyes widening as they flicked up. Gon was smiling at him, warm and soft and all he could think of was seeing that smile on the face of a dead man, eyes hollow above it. Would it still be warm then? 

"I want to show you something. Will you come with me?" 

There was a hand being offered to him and Killua blinked at it owlishly, trying desperately to pull himself from his tangled mind. It was a difficult task when his thoughts were full of the dead. Not that they'd ever bothered him much before. But things were different now, weren't they? Caring made you different. 

The assassin grasped Gon's hand in his own, standing in one fluid motion, but still he did not speak. The Hunter didn't seem to mind, just turned and led the way down a well worn path. It pointed in the opposite direction of the lake, a trail he'd never taken before but one he'd watched Gon travel down every day after lunch. 

"You know you're going to die, right?" His words broke their silence a few minutes later and the other teen glanced back at him in surprise, step faltering before he faced forward and continued again. 

"Maybe," was his reply, and Killua wished he could see the expression on his face. "I always trust my gut. When I met you, even though you said you were going to kill me, I was only happy. Somehow I knew you were going to be very important. But when you talk about your family? I only get nauseous." 

The assassin waited for some sort of explanation and when it didn't come he gave a huff. "Nauseous?" he prompted. He'd known talking to Gon was like talking in circles but this was kind of a serious topic and his cryptic answer was doing more to piss Killua off than answer him. (At the very least, it was pulling him out of spiraling 'dead Gon' thoughts.) 

The Hunter gave a 'mm' note of agreement. "Yeah! Not like a 'I think I might die' kind of a nauseous, but like a 'I should be worried' kind of nauseous." He paused, turning back to look at the assassin and cock his head to the side quizzically. "Know what I mean?" Before Killua could answer that no, no he did not know what he meant, Gon was off again. "It's hard to explain, like I know there's a threat coming and I know it's dangerous, but I feel like if we play our cards right we'll be okay. Both of us." 

Listening to the Hunter talk, unsure of his wording and of himself, Killua could see the true confidence the other possessed and for once he thought that maybe Gon might just be right. Maybe they would be okay. 

But then he caught the barest glimpse of Illumi's aura, out on the horizon, miles away and he shivered. Just the most fleeting touch, and he knew that no. It was not going to be okay.


	11. We're Screwed, Aren't We?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know the new chapter titles are dumb but oh well I like them.

It really was beautiful, if Gon did say so himself. Upon seeing it, Killua had gone rigid and quiet and a closed off expression had passed over his features. (That was his 'trying not to feel hope' face, the Hunter would bet money even if he'd never seen it before.) 

They were on the far side of the island, down where they could still reach water but close enough to the high end that the land sloped away into cliffs on their right. 

It sat low on the sand, heavy, but the ocean lapped at one end and pushing it in would be no problem. In the meantime the tide wasn't going to get high enough to carry it away. 

It being, of course, the surprise he'd been working on all week and his surprise being a small boat. The main body was simple; long planks of wood lashed together using dried palm fronds braided into rope. It stopped being simple there as Gon proved his workmanship. There was a short railing, storage compartments built into the floor and two sails. A few key components were still missing of course, the rudder for one and most of the rigging but if they worked together they could be off the island in a day or so. 

Killua had yet to say anything. Though he had been quiet on the trip here somehow his utter stillness now amplified it, making him appear as if he was nothing but part of the landscape. Gon was just admiring this skill, noting how it had to have been useful for an assassin when suddenly there was a flash of motion. The Hunter barely had enough time to raise his ken before there was a fist connecting heavily with his jaw and he was being thrown backwards several yards. He managed to stay on his feet but just barely, and when he looked up Killua was still in a wide footed fighting stance, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. There were little sparks of electricity flying off him randomly, bright and loud and speaking volumes for just how dangerous this man truly was. 

"Why the fuck did you keep this from me?" he all but growled. It was the first time there had been any true hostility directed at Gon and he had to force himself not to lock up his body and return that fighting stance. Every instinct he had told him to curl his fingers, to set his shoulders, hit back, attack, attack, attack. The impulse was a living thing pumping through his veins and he shivered because how the hell had he not seen this power before? Two weeks. He spent at least two weeks with this man and all he had sensed was a quiet reserve, a steady strength. But this? This was down right scary. 

Gon took a deep breath, steadied himself, and smiled. "It was a surprise! I wasn't going to tell you about it until I had completely finished it but now seemed like a pretty good time considering." He shrugged, his nonchalance coming easier now that he wasn't so caught off guard by the other's anger. 

There was a snarl but then Killua let his ren settle down around his body and he relaxed out of his stance. His face remained twisted slightly in anger but Gon counted it as a win anyways. 

"Should have told me a hell of a lot sooner. Maybe then we wouldn't be in this situation." Rather than a growl his tone now sounded more pouty than anything as he stepped up to the boat and gave the edge of it a swift kick. "This thing even going to work? It's gonna be useless if we can't get it in the water within-" and here Killua paused, lifting his face as if sniffing the breeze. "Within the next four hours." 

Well....the rigging and rudder were both important and Gon could finish those pretty quickly. But he'd wanted more time to gather food and water for their trip. Maybe if Killua did that part they could kill two birds with one stone. He told him just that and the assassin shrugged, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Whatever. If we can't leave soon then we're both dead anyways. Why bother with the effort?" 

Gon pulled an odd face, confusion making him wrinkle his nose. "What do you mean, 'why bother'. We have to try." 

"I mean, 'why bother'. Never waste your time with things you can't accomplish, never enter a fight you aren't positive you can win." Killua shrugged, calmed from his earlier out burst but still sounding rather annoyed. 

A sharp pain ricocheted through his chest and the Hunter took in a sharp breath. God, what an awful existence! Always made to believe that everything not plausible is impossible. He could clearly envision a child Killua, bright and energetic having his dreams crushed by an older, faceless family member until he resembled the assassin standing before him now. 

Said assassin was sending Gon funny looks, probably wondering why he was just standing there looking like he was in pain. The Hunter shook his head, grimacing a little. "We're going to try anyways." 

They spent the next twenty minutes going over just what exactly needed to get done and how to accomplish each task. Then Gon was sitting on the beach, using his nen to carve a rudder out of a tree stump and Killua was back at their camp, collecting the small grass bags the Hunter had made and filling them with anything edible.

In total it took them a little over three hours to get things together. By that time Gon was coated in a light sheen of sweat and breathing heavily. The exertion had felt good but channeling his nen into smaller tasks was always difficult. He was built for strength and fighting, there was no getting around that. Learning to use his abilities for anything but a good wrestling match had taken him several years to accomplish, and even now he still struggled with it. 

Killua, on the other hand, was laden down with the various baskets and bags the Hunter had made using their surroundings. He was just placing them in the boat, quiet but tense in a way Gon had never seen him. Blue eyes kept flickering over the horizon, as if there was something he was expecting to see there. 

Pursing his lips, the Hunter tied off the last of the rope he'd made and hoped off the deck of the boat. "Come help me push her into the water," he called back up to the assassin. 

There came no reply. Gon glanced up, able to see Killua's shape, dark against the pale grey sky. He had his back to the younger teen, looking out to sea. 

"You won't find me out there, little brother." 

For a moment, he thought the assassin had spoken. But the voice wasn't right, more emotionless, heavier somehow. That and it came from behind him. 

Gon spun around, the sand shifting uneasily beneath his feet as he turned to face a tall stranger standing at the edge of the tree line. By the time he'd completed his turn Killua was next to him. He looked easy and relaxed but the Hunter could read tension into the set of his shoulders and the clench of his jaw. 

"What do you want, Illumi?"

"That's no way to greet family, Killu," the stranger responded. From anyone else the words might have been warm and teasing. From Illumi (that was his name, right?) they sounded hollow and vaguely threatening. It made the hairs on the back of Gon's neck stand up, the way he spoke, all smooth sounds and missing inflictions. 

When Killua didn't respond, his brother (they looked nothing alike and the Hunter was glad for that, but he knew they had to be related) took several steps forward. The assassin seemed to shrink further into himself next to Gon but the dark man merely held out a hand to them, though he was a good ten yards away. 

"Come, Killua, and we can finish this hunt together. If we end this now, Father will be understanding with your punishment." 

There was a tense moment when no one moved and then the pale teen took a single step forward. Gon turned to watch him, confusion etched into his face as Killua placed once foot in front of the other, moving further and further away from him and the boat that could offer them freedom. 

The Hunter's heart sank when he realized what was happening. It was like a switch had been hit. One moment the person beside him was just that, a person. The next he was a walking talking doll, a prisoner with obedience written into his skin, and there was nothing Gon could do but watch him walk away. 

Illumi smiled; a cold, ruthless thing, and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. It seemed to leech all life out of Killua, his shoulders slumping, and the Hunter felt something rise up in him, dark and angry. Then Killua turned to face him and the anger was gone, cold and heavy as ice in his gut. 

Two pairs of eyes watched him, both emotionless, one dark like ink the other a magnificent blue. And he knew he might not be able to fight his way out of this one.


	12. I Won't Do It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, for once I updated on time! You should reward me with reviews and comments.

In the distance there were seabirds calling to each other, drifting along on the wind's currents, noisy and distracting. Gon didn't hear them. He steadied his breath, slowed his heartbeat and concentrated. The air was tight around him, like above his head there was a swinging axe, slow in its arc and it's rhythm. Any second now. Any second now and it would lurch down and kill him, not very clean but precise all the same. It felt inevitable, like the rising sun or the clouds above. 

Illumi had yet to let go of Killua's shoulder. The three of them stood there in silence, Gon uncomfortable and the brothers unreadable, detached. For a long time this prevailed, the Hunter eventually shifting his weight from one foot to the other and then back to his even stance. This seemed to be a catalyst as Illumi turned to the pale assassin beside him, ducking his head to speak directly into his ear. 

"Kill him." 

Even at a distance Gon heard the words loud and clear, no emotion, no hesitation whatsoever. And then all hell broke loose. Killua was there in front of him, one foot swept out to knock the Hunter's out from under him and face painfully blank. 

With the boat at his back there was no room for Gon to jump backwards. Instead he propelled himself to the side, slipping in the sand and then regaining his balance almost before he'd lost it. Killua followed on his heels, flashing in and out of his vision as he continued down the beach. 

There was no way he was going to be able to fight Killua. Not because he couldn't. Hell, before all of....this (betrayal, brainwashing, turning his friend against him that stupid bastard, he had no qualms about hurting Illumi, absolutely none whatsoever) he'd wanted to pit himself against the assassin in a friendly way. Maybe even train together, see who was stronger, faster. But this? No. He couldn't do this. He refused to hurt a friend, to fight someone who had looked up at him this morning, eyes wide and just a little scared and then accepted his help, however small the offer was. So he ran.

His goal, ultimately, was to get far enough away from Illumi that he might be able to talk some sense into Killua. But everywhere he turned, that dark figure was there, at a distance but close, and his pale haired brother even closer. Gon realized belatedly that it was mistake to focus on the Zoldyck who wasn't attacking him. Killua was suddenly in front of him, nails and fingers mutated into something sharp, lethal, and his entire aura buzzing with electricity. 

"Quit running; the sooner I finish this, the better." His voice was unrecognizable, hollow and unflinching in a dangerous way. 

The Hunter skidded to a stop, back pedaling slightly but he wasn't fast enough. Not with his mind on overdrive. He'd raised his ken and braced himself, but whatever Killua had done to his hands sliced straight through his nen and into the flesh of his arms, down to the bone. Blood splattered the ground and Gon gasped the assassin's name, tucking the wounds in close to his body even as he tried to get out of attacking range. Thinking fast he played a hard left, straight into the ocean where he knew he'd be slower but at least Killua would be slower too. If the odds were fair maybe then he'd stand a chance. But they weren't, he was backed into a corner, attention and instincts split between run and think but he couldn't run forever and he certainly couldn't just pause to find a way to snap Killua out of his sudden bloodlust. 

The saltwater hurt like a bitch where it lapped up at Gon's arms but he kept going until he was in to his waist. Illumi lingered by the shore and the Hunter wondered just how far out to sea he'd have to go in order to snap Killua out of his brother's control. Too far, probably. Far enough that the assassin would catch and kill him first. Well if he couldn't go out, maybe he could go up. 

Gather the nen into the feet, crouch, jump and you will find yourself suspended in mid-air. Gon had never had any trouble with this particular skill, but with water dragging him down and blood still pouring freely from the incision like cuts on his arms, it was more difficult than he remembered it being. He managed anyways. 

Killua had seemed loathe to splash into the ocean after Gon, but he sprung into the air on nimble feet faster than the Hunter could have ever anticipated. And then he was gone. There was one heart pounding second, in which Gon would remember distinctly that his heart had beat only once, once and only once, before his instincts were screaming at him to move. It was enough for him to wobble, drop a few feet in altitude, but he stopped there, unable to go further. Confused, he glanced down only to watch as first pale fingers, a hand, an entire arm emerged from the confines of his chest, completely clean even as he felt several ribs snap. 

Too far to the right to hit my heart. I suppose that's good. 

And then it was gone and he was free falling. He had just enough time to turn midair, to glimpse something in the blue eyes of his killer before he hit the water. Blood was rushing freely from his torso now, clouding the sea around him and vaguely he wondered why his arms had hurt so much, but this he could barely feel. Actually, he couldn't feel this arms now, either. Weird. It was a fatal wound, he knew, even if it hadn't hit any major organs it had gone clean through his body, shouldn't he be in pain? 

Oh, but the blood was very pretty. Even as he settled on the ocean floor he could see stark red tendrils drifting away from him, up up up, fading into the water. The sunlight made everything look fragmented, distorted, reds and oranges and pinks and purples all around him. Or maybe that was just his own mind. He couldn't tell, just knew that something was slipping away from him bit by bit, just like his blood. 

All thought processes stopped when he saw a flash of something pale in the water. 

Guess that'll be the sharks. They won't like me much, not enough fat. But that won't stop them from taking a few bites. 

But instead of sharp, jagged teeth he was being pulled up through the water until cool air brushed his skin and he spluttered for oxygen he hadn't known he needed until just then. Blinking the salt from his eyes didn't help his vision clear; he was dizzy and numb and still coughing but there was a face above him and he just knew that it belonged to someone important to him. 

Distantly he realized that there were people talking around him. If he listened for a second he could tell he was being carried; the face above also had a voice to match.

"...n't do it." 

Gon was fading in and out of consciousness. He couldn't feel the majority of his body, but he could feel tiny drops of water where they fell against his cheek. Where were they going? And for that matter why was that person crying?

"...don't have....choice....finish it."

There were tears. He didn't care, he was too busy trying to get his body to obey him so he could reach up and touch that face, stop those tears from falling. Maybe then he'd remember who he cared for so much. 

"...told you!.....do it!" 

It had to be the person who was carrying him, his friend (yeah, friend, that sounded right) who was crying. They shouldn't cry. Gon wanted them to be happy! Everyone deserved happiness, especially this person, because they meant so much to him. He tried to tell them so, felt his chest constrict like he had taken in a big breath to speak, but then...

"....it for you." 

"Don't!......brother, please...." 

There was a tugging sensation on his throat and the entire world spun before blinking out like stars in the face of the sun's brilliance.


	13. Brother, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it guys. This is the end. The last chapter. The closing line. It's kind of sad, but I'm also really happy because this is the first fanfic I've ever finished. Wow! And I started this a whole year ago!
> 
> I know I kind of promised some Kilugon but the more the story went on the more it became about trust and friendship rather than love. Honestly I only planned half of this, the story just told me how it wanted to be written. But don't worry! Because this isn't the end, not yet. There will be a sequel soon, titled Hunter's Luck. If you want to continue the journey with our boys keep an eye out for it, okay?

Killua felt like he was floating. It wasn't a pleasant feeling; there was nothing to grab at, nothing to steady himself with and try as he might he couldn't seem to get his sluggish body to obey his will. 

Illumi's presence always seemed to do that to him though. Created a kind of fog over his mind. There were whole chunks of his memories missing from when his brother had directly ordered him to do something, his mind short circuiting as his body leapt into action in order to follow that command. He used to use it as a training technique for Killua, "to get him over his sentimentalities," he'd said and to reinforce his already embedded killing instinct.

The assassin had never before questioned the power Illumi held over him. It had seemed natural. Now it seemed anything but; it was dangerous and manipulative and almost kind of sadistic. How had he never seen that before? There was trust and then there was blind, ignorant servitude. He was beginning to realize he might just fall into the latter category and it made him sick to his stomach. 

All those people he'd killed, that had been for Illumi. And even when Killua had been in charge, when he'd accepted the missions himself, it'd still been for his family in one form or another. He'd never had a problem with it, not really but suddenly memories were swimming forward bright and vivid in the darkness of his mind. 

He was young, at the time, maybe three or four. 

"Life is fragile," Illumi had told him. The baby bird Killua had brought to him sat calm and quiet in his hand, it's wing held limply at its side where it was broken. It didn't make a sound, just peered demurely at them both from tiny, dark eyes. "Life is fragile." And then he'd crushed it, the bird giving one dying scream that was off before it'd even really begun. He'd brushed the feathers from his fingers and walked away and that scream had echoed in Killua's head for days and days and days. It was not the first death he had seen. It was merely the first that had affected him. 

Then, later when he was six. He'd held a knife at the throat of a girl who was younger than him. She wasn't even awake, her face soft and peaceful in sleep. His fingers had trembled but before he could steel himself Illumi was there, pressing his blade down into the curve of her neck. She'd died without a sound and he'd been punished for months for showing hesitation.

When he was eight Illumi killed the dog he tried to keep as a pet. When Killua was nine and brought home a kitten, he'd killed it himself after one look from his brother. 

At fourteen he'd fallen off a building in the middle of a chase. He'd broken his arm, nothing serious, but when he returned home Illumi had broken his other one to teach him to watch his step. 

He'd accepted all of it without a second thought. 

Vile was burning low in Killua's gut, anger and betrayal thick in his throat. He'd long ago given up on having a traditional love for his family. Hell, he hardly tolerated most of them. But he'd trusted them, at the very least and the thought that they had been using him, Illumi the biggest offender of all... 

"Killua." 

His name was gasped in pain and the assassin was pulled from his thoughts violently, sucking in a deep breath (or at least he felt like he did, there was something about this floating dream world that told him nothing in it was real, not even himself) . 

That had been Gon's voice, he was positive, and suddenly he wished he knew what was happening out there outside of this prison. One minute he'd been standing next to the Hunter, the next walking slowly towards Illumi, though that was a bit more hazy of a memory. After that? Nothing. 

It seemed like only seconds later and there came a sick wet sound, the crunch of breaking bones and the squelch of ripping flesh. The scent of blood hit him so hard that Killua jolted himself back into consciousness. It was the smell but also a tiny, breathless noise that he'd heard a million times before from a million different victims. The only difference was that this time, he knew it came from Gon.

Killua blinked his eyes furiously, unable to focus on anything but the person in front of him. Then his body moved on its own, retracting his arm from where he'd been trying to deliver a death blow and allowing Gon to fall away from him, down towards the glittering ocean. The Hunter turned, caught Killua's eyes with his own for a brief moment and then he was gone, water sweeping in over his head with nothing but a quiet splash. There was no evidence he'd gone under except for the steadily growing pool of blood. 

For a moment Killua simply stared. He thought he could do it, maybe. If he just turned now, he could walk away and pretend none of this ever happened. Go back to his life before, pretend he didn't know he was an instrument for murder. Maybe even wipe Gon from his memories completely. But then he felt the tears running down his cheeks and he knew that the opportunity had passed him long ago, weeks in fact, and there was no way in hell he could leave now. So he did the only thing he could do, he dove down into the water to get his friend. (Holy shit, he actually used that word, god his whole world was coming down around his ears.) 

When Killua stepped back up onto the beach he was still crying. He wanted to wipe the tears away but his arms were full of Gon and suddenly he had no idea what he was doing. The Hunter was bleeding, conscious but only barely. He had no medical training, no experience in healing someone and even if he did this kind of thing would still be over his head. It would be better to just stop now. Save himself the hardship of having to try in the first place, or better yet, just put Gon out of his misery. But for now he clutched the teen to his chest and tried to will the tears away.

It wasn't until he felt dark eyes boring into him that Killua remembered his brother was there. Looking up, he fixed Illumi with a watery, but strong gaze. 

"I can't do it. And I won't." 

Illumi turned his head to the side in that unnerving way he had. "You don't have a choice," he said, and though his voice was quiet it demanded attention. "You never did. Now finish it." The last part was clearly an order and Killua felt his body seize, felt himself start to drift back to that place, the one where he had no control as his body carried out his brother's wishes. But no. He wouldn't allow it, couldn't, not this time. 

Setting his jaw he grit out, "I told you! I won't do it!" 

The way Illumi leaned forward, barley, just barely, showed he clearly knew this was a battle of wills. There was a pause where Killua continued to fight himself, but each second it was getting easier and his brother knew this. 

"Fine, I'll do it for you." 

Cold panic swept through Killua and he tensed, leaping back and away from Illumi even as his brother advanced.

"Don't! No, brother please, just leave him alone." But Illumi's shadow had already fallen over them and then he was gone, leaving the assassin to gape as fresh blood spilled across his chest and hands. 

Oh lord how he wished that was his own blood.

But it wasn't and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about that now. There was a brief second where he wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and cry, but even he had to put a limit to how much he could change in just a few short weeks. Instead he caught the boat in his line of sight, still sitting a ways away on the beach; packed with food and ready to go. He hurried Gon to it, laying his now unconscious form on the wood and then stripping off his shirt so he could tear it into pieces and use them as bandages. They were dirty and ragged but for now it was the best he could do. He might not be able to help the Hunter...but if he could get them off this god forsaken island....

It was when he went to wrap the cut on Gon's throat that he realized something was wrong. It was fairly shallow, high up on the Hunter's neck and though it bled profusely it was far from the kind of wound a Zoldyck would normally inflict. For one, it would take hours for Gon to bleed out this way, even with his other injuries. And if the blood flow was stopped? Well then it just needed a few stitches. Killua doubted the cut would still be fresh enough for that by the time they reached the mainland but that didn't mean much. It could still be coaxed into healing. 

With shaking fingers he pressed dirty fabric against the well of blood and held it there. When the flow had abated he dabbed at it with a bit of seawater (salt would clean it, right?) and then made a hasty bandage. He moved on to the next wound, the cut across Gon's left arm. It had stopped bleeding as much but it was deep and severe looking. 

That's the time when the assassin realized he'd been set up, sitting there staring at torn skin and the white flashing of bone beneath it. Illumi had given him an opportunity to redeem himself and he'd failed. Here was his second chance served up on a silver platter; take the boat and go home, but leave Gon behind to die. Except it wasn't a second chance was it? Because if he left the Hunter now he proved a coward; unwilling to kill him but also unwilling to save him.

Gritting his teeth Killua continued with his grisly task. He was forced to use the last of his own shirt in order to completely wrap the cut but there were two other wounds to attend to as well. More carefully than he'd handled anything before, the assassin sat Gon up and slid his shirt off as well. It would serve to bandage his right arm as well as the sickening circle of damage in his chest. 

The implication was far from clear, but Killua got it anyways after a few minutes of quiet contemplation. To return with Gon meant exile from the family, clean cut ties and a forgotten existence. To return without him meant brutal punishment but a continuation of his responsibilities for the family. Fucking Illumi and his mind games. God, he hated him. 

When he was younger, Killua wouldn't have thought twice before leaving. Now he dwelled on the decision a little longer. Even as he patched Gon up, because let's face it, he wasn't going to let the Hunter die, not now, not after everything, he considered the question. He'd save Gon either way. But on the one hand he'd have to lie to his family and never see the dark haired teen again. On the other....well he could only guess at that. The opportunities were pretty much endless. 

And suddenly he was taken back to when he was young and naive, the times that hadn't been shadowed by his family and their bloody trade. To when Illumi had still called him a fool. Those were the days when he had felt the world was huge and exciting, that there was something out there for him, just beyond the horizon and if he ran fast enough, trained hard enough, pushed himself, then he might be able to glimpse it, just for a second, and it would have been more than enough. The days when he had hope. 

Then the world had closed in around him, like a steel trap, and he hadn't even fought the sick feeling of loosing all his wonder. Because he hadn't noticed, not really. He'd retreated into his own thoughts, ducked his head, accepted his role as leader of the family and moved on. 

Now? Now he felt like he was all of twelve again, the world laid out before him like a shining jewel and all he had to do was reach out and it was his. 

There was trepidation there, at the back of his mind. Would his family really let him go like that? Would they hunt him down if he tried to leave? And what about Gon, would they hunt him too? 

There was anger bubbling up beneath that. For being used by his family and for not realizing he was nothing but a means to an end. A trophy to polish and shine. 

But there was hope, underneath and around and beside it all. There was hope. Hope in the knowledge that he had free will, that Illumi could no longer control him so long as he set his mind against it (and that soothed his betrayal more than anything). Hope in the beginning bonds of friendship he'd formed with a complete stranger. Hope in himself. 

Really, the choice was so simple when he laid things out like that. 

As soon as Killua finished bandaging Gon he pushed the boat out into the water and began steering it out to sea. He lifted his face to the breeze and let the salt sit on his tongue, the way he'd seen the Hunter do so long ago on the deck of the Myrtle, and the ocean unfolded against the bow of their own little ship, the one Gon had made for them. They weren't out of the fire yet, that was for certain, but for once Killua kind of felt like they might make it one day.


End file.
